


Biding Time

by patrioticpotatoes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, No Romance, Past Abuse, Post TLJ, Star Wars: The Last Jedi Spoilers, just a salty Hux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 05:48:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13241751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patrioticpotatoes/pseuds/patrioticpotatoes
Summary: The night after the events on Crait, Hux just wants to be alone. The future of the First Order is questionable, as is his own, and the very last thing the already stressed man wants is to hear is any more noise. There is only so much one can take, after all, though Phasma doesn't seem to care.





	Biding Time

"You look like absolute shit."

That was what he heard. Not the silence he so well needed, and frankly, quite deserved, but some snarky remark about his appearance. His appearance, which after three days of two hour sleeping periods and four days with no sleep at all, after the miserable events on Crait which allowed the Resistance an escape, after the excruciating sessions he's had with Snoke due to his own failures which he knew well that his crew was aware of, and after the horror of seeing that pathetic child rising to power suddenly-let's just say, Hux was under the impression that he would at least be allowed to let his shoulders droop in the privacy of his own quarters. 

His head turned quickly, eyes narrowed as he sought to snap back at whoever thought themselves able to speak to an officer of his rank, and paused. Well, there was a face he didn't expect to see again.

"As do you." He replied with a disdainful look over a face half burnt. The skin around a formerly blue, now dull gray, eye was blistered and marring. Great, now one of his best warriors was half blind. Still, she was worth more to him half blind than dead. Hux looked back to where his gaze had been originally and reached down to pull a half empty bottle from his cabinet. He didn't speak as he walked to his desk and poured a substantial amount of golden liquid into the glass he had set there prior. Once he had taken a long sip, he allowed his eyes to trail back over an equally silent Phasma, who stood a few feet back. "I thought you were dead."

If Phasma was offended by the disinterested tone of voice, she didn't show it. Rather, she simply replied in a similar one. "Did you?"

Hux allowed himself the informality of leaning against his desk as his slowly swished the alcohol in his glass. "Apparently, there were reports of you falling into a fire by two troopers. Seeing as you hadn't reported afterwards, I assumed the worst."

"Last time I checked, fire wasn't solid. I fell through it. A slight burn, but nothing serious."

Hux watched her for a few more moments. "I'd ask why you didn't report and why your armor didn't protect you from that," He gestured to her eye. "But I don't care. I have bigger issues to deal with."

"Ah, yes. Your dear rival is now your dear boss." Phasma crossed her arms, remaining ever stiff in posture. Normally, Hux would be appreciative of the fact that she, at least, respected the idea of a powerful image. Then again, he was in his own quarters and reserved the right to slouch at such a time when his whole world was just about collapsing. He took another sip with an affirmative grunt, then setting the glass down. She didn't seem all too amused by the idea of having the Force user in charge either. "What's he done so far?"

"Hmph." Hux got a bitter look on his face. He knew what Phasma meant, the implied, "-to you" floating beneath her words. "He choked me." The words were sour, the memory painfully sharp in his mind. "Threw me into a wall." He sounded pathetic, he heard it in his own voice. "And when we returned to the Finalizer, Forced me to my knees and threatened to chain me to his new throne if I were to fail him again." As if it were his fault the Resistance got away. It had been Ren's dramatic idea to have the most dramatic battle with his troops as an audience with his dramatic uncle. "Just to make sure he knew I know I'm his bitch."

Phasma rolled her eyes-eye. She rolled her eye at him, which immediately got Hux pissed. "Then stop wallowing in your self pity and do something."

Hux had heard many things that day alone that made him want to explode. Hell, he had done it on a few occasions, though not at the level of this. 

"Hold your tongue." He hissed, eyes narrowing. Each and every word was dripping with venom. His voice wasn't loud in volume, but the way he spoke with the emotion flickering in his eyes was enough for Phasma to raise a brow. Any other man would cower and avert their eyes. Hux's rage was something of fire. The most common was the red and yellow flickering flames, which was his normal anger. Yelling, a few growls, and some expressions to make normal men have a shiver of fear run down their spines. But it was not the hottest, not the most dangerous. The bright flames were loud, but it was the blue fire that one should really fear. The quiet, still anger. The pent up frustration and hatred that escaped so rarely from the mostly composed man. Those pale blue flames which seem harmless yet scorch worse than any yellow flicker. And there was Hux in that moment, his blue eyes very much the juxtaposing cold blue of the blistering fire.

"You understand nothing, impatient pillock." The general continued, having stood up straight and taken a step forward. "You have no sense of what's going on, no clue what powers are at play. Not only does this cretin have the ability to read minds, he can choke a person without laying a finger on them. To deal with someone with that much power requires time and planning, to ensure that no significant casualties are sustained. I do not intend to die in some vain attempted coup, to leave behind an Order to fend for itself against it's incapable leader. Call me egotistic, but I am very well the last hope this organization has. Don't be foolish, don't think I will sit back and let this beast of a man ruin my life's work. For now, however, I am just biding my time."

Throughout that lovely little monologue, Phasma blinked only once. She stared at him with an unchanging face, posture not moving even an inch. "Biding your time." She spoke in a dull tone.

Hux continued to stare her down, though the rage was simmering low enough to where his words weren't shooting out at a million words per second. "Yes. Biding my time. I work behind the scenes for now, project my will through him. He's still easy to manipulate enough, his emotions are unbridled and too controlling of his actions." Of course, this meant he was unpredictable, which could ultimately lead to Hux's demise. But the manipulation aspect was too easy to exploit for Hux to ignore. "I'm the order to his chaos that will leave him clinging to me for advise. The boy can't rule and you know that. Give it time, I can work him into a sense of security."

"Time." Phasma repeated, her own brand of disgust revealed on her features. She looked Hux over as though he were a child, naive and foolish. "How much time do you think you have? Look at yourself!" Hux bristled, the fire sparking again. "Your lip is busted, your jaw is bruised, and you haven't slept right in years. That all being under the leadership of someone who had the slightest bit of respect for you, even if that respect was minuscule. Now you're dealing with a man who despises you, who won't hesitate to hurt you for the tiniest reasons. How much do you think you're body can take?"

"How much can I take?" Hux was seething. He got close to Phasma, close enough to where he could see the edge of Phasma's burned iris in its disfigured state clear as day, every vein and muscle around it. "How much can I take?

"I have never stopped taking! Since the moment I knew how to crawl, I've taken, and taken, and taken. I have dealt with fists, belts, kicks, and all sorts of Force bullshit, and you know well that I can take more. I took it from the man who was supposed to protect and raise me, who instead gave me scars that still haven't disappeared. I took it from the instructors at the Academy, who saw me as nothing more than an overambitious future replacement for their asses. I took it from my classmates, who held a special hatred for me because, hell, I was damn better than the whole lot of them. I took it from my superior officers, who looked down upon me because I was young. I took it from Snoke, who thinks of me as some easily manipulated bastard. And you know damn well that I will take it from Ren, who believes himself higher because he was born with some sort of space magic."

And Hux didn't stop there, no. He went on.

"And guess what? I bided my time with all of them. I waited until I gained the power and leverage to start pointing out the flaws of the Academy's systems. Subtly pinned the blame onto my former instructors until they were disposed of. I waited until I was in position to appoint workers to certain fields, and saw that the worst of my classmates was stuck polishing boots for a living. I waited until opportunity knocked and when it did, I rose to power faster than any of my superior officers had. I'm their superior officer now. Even with my father, may he rot, I waited. I waited and waited until I found the perfect opportunity to take him out."

Hux gestured to her a thin lipped smile, if it could be called such, on his face. "And there you were. With Snoke, I didn't have to do any work. Sure, I planned to find a weakness in his strategy and open the flaw up to Ren, manipulate that weak mind to kill him...but, well, it appeared he was ahead of the game and took him out without any effort on my part." A dry, humorless laugh. "I bided my time with all of them. And I will bide my time with this one. When the opportunity comes, I will end the reign of Supreme Leader Kylo Ren. But as of now, if he orders me to get on my knees and lick his boots clean, I will damn right obey him."

Phasma waited for a few moments before speaking. "Have you finished your grand speech?"

Hux didn't respond.

She rolled her eye again and continued. "Right, well. I just came to make sure you had some fight left in you. Clearly you do, no need for another lecture." 

Hux sighed, the anger leaving his body. At this point, he was just tired. He finished off the last bit of his drink before setting it back on the table, not bothering to return the bottle. He walked towards the bed in the back of his quarters. "Yes, yes. When I plan my assault on the Supreme Loser, I'll let you know. As for now, I am going to sleep, hopefully this time more than two hours, and hope that I don't wake up with my neck chained to a glorified chair."

Phasma snorted and walked closer to Hux's desk as he laid down on his bed. "Good. You know I'll fight beside you. Not because I like you, of course. You're an asshole. More because you have more benefits for me than he does."

"Including alcohol." Hux set his boots against the side of the bed and got comfortable. He waved her away. "Go ahead, take the rest of the bottle. And get out, next time schedule a meeting."

Phasma smirked and took the bottle in hand, walking to the door. She left without another word. Hux remained awake, listening to the familiar sound of the ship's mechanics. He would take what was rightfully his. He would watch Ren fall by his own hand. He would lead the First Order to victory and bring the galaxy to peace.

It was only a matter of time.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I do think Phasma survived. Half because I want her to redeem herself (if possible) by doing something real cool in the next movie and half because I think she would look pretty badass with a half burnt face. Also, first fic! I hope y'all like it :)


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